


Relax

by SuplexQueen



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Consensual, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Interrogation, Itching gel, Love, M/M, Non-Consensual Tickling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sensory Deprivation, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-15 17:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuplexQueen/pseuds/SuplexQueen
Summary: Jazz knows a lot of things.Often things other people do not know. They want to know though. Jazz doesn't tell. Unless made.Ratchet makes him tell. All of it.He always does.





	Relax

Jazz hated this. He really did. Walking down the hallway, knowing what was awaiting him. Interrogation at it's finest. Disguised as a medical check up by the very true Hatchet. He swallows, his intake rolls with anticipation and horror all the same. Staring down the door as if to will it to go away and not open. Never. Never open. Unfortunately for him, he was not in luck. It did open. Open silently, foreboding bad things for him. In form of Ratchets tools. He already saw them, glimmering innocently on the tray. Making him only want to turn around and- Yep. He was turning around. Time to go. Frag this.

"Ah, Jazz!" The servo gripping his shoulder and hauling him backwards, into the medbay, startled him more than it should. People saying that Ratchet couldn't be sneaky, were clearly somehow retarted. The medic snuck around all the Primus damn time. The saboteur thinks too long on this and thus, his freedom closes off right in front of him. A soft 'beeb' telling him the door just locked. Sure, he could hack it. That would take around ten seconds. That was ten seconds too much to escape Ratchet. 

Who was, right now, still holding him by the shoulder and moving him to the exermination chair. It kind of looked like a birthing chair but, no one got any sparklings anymore these days. Not with the war hanging over their helms. People usually got strapped into that chair if they were too fidgety for mantainance. Like Jazz. His lover knew him too well. It was unnerving, should be at least to the head of SPEC OPs. Then again. 

They have been together for Over thirty years. Sure, it was long in human terms but Cybertronian? Not as much. Not if you lived for literally a few million years. Though it certainly was a much longer time span Jazz had expected from himself. He never before comitted to a relationship and this, this had been comically easy. Ratchet just one day was there and parked his aft in Jazz's spark and stayed there. Forever. Though he re-considers his life choices as he lets himself be guided into the chair like a drone. Sure, he could fight. But he learned early on that if he fought, Ratchet would find horrible ways to pay him back. Like.. refuse to let Jazz touch him. Refuse to touch Jazz. To talk to him- 

Technically he'd ignore the saboteur which felt so bad. It felt like something important in his life was gone. Ratchet was old and grumpy and- Well, Jazz was old too but Ratchet was like a sturdy anchor for someone as fickle as himself. Jazz felt like a flame on a candle and with Jazz, he wasn't a candle. He was a campfire. A steady campfire. That wouldn't go out easily. Sure, Ratchet never managed to ignore him more than a day or two, but it still felt bad.

He's startled out of his thought with Ratchet strapping down his ankles. Legs spread, angled up. Leaving plenty of room for Ratchet to fit snug right there. Smiling innocently and waving a little, wiggling his digits with a glimmer in his optics. Oh, Jazz was in trouble now. Automatically he puts his hands to his sides so Ratchet can lean over to strap them there. But it wasn't enough. No. To ensure Jazz couldn't lean forward and headbutt his lover  ~~,they didn't speak of that incident,~~  a strap was tightened around his throat. Making Jazz whine deep in his throat. "We- We gotta be able ta work this out. Righ'?" 

"You know what I want." Is the response he got, mumbled gently as Ratchet walked to the windows, checking if they were darkened. Giving them 100% privacy. Tapping something into a console, a faint hiss toning as the door sealed. Making the entire room soundproof. Jazz would need this mercy for what was to come. "Anytime you feel like sharing, I'm sure you'll see that in doing so things will be a lot easier on you." Oh that devil. He simply pulls the tray closer, sitting on a stool to lean on Jazz's stomach plating with a smirk. Toying visibly with a very thin brush, that would look innocent to everyone but Jazz right now. He squirms even more. 

"Pleaaase~ I'm beggin' ya. A can't tell- Please- Jus' not taday? Tomorrow?" - "You said that yesterday." With that, he digged his digits right under Jazz's panels and opened his valve panel manually. Which, frankly, was already dripping with arousal. Swolen mesh pushing outwards, his valve lips engorged and sensitive. "One would assume with the aphrodisiac that I applied yesterday that you'd be a lot more cooperative." Ratchet cooed, tilting his head. 

Oh. He wanted to be alright. His valve was needy for some loving but not the kind Ratchet had planned. Those soft brushes looked like they'd be hell on his sensitive protomesh. The bristles looking ready to bring agony. "So how about this.." Ratchet chimed into his nervous breakdown. "I'll start with your seams, right.. here.." Pointing with both his hands at the seams that Jazz had right between his legs and his panels. Since the saboteur had his legs spread they were easily reached and unfortunately all his wiring and sensitive protomesh was at the medics mercy. "and then we'll work out way all over to your valve and inside." The deep grumble from Ratchet made Jazz just hide his face. 

"Nooo.. Babe please-" He's cut off by something poking right into the seams, something soft and incredibly  _itchy._ Jazz bolted but his arms or legs wouldn't move thanks to the shackles. "No- Ratchet I swear to Primu-UUSSS!" The end of his sentence ended in something like a screech as the medic dragged the soft brush he had been holding right  _between_ some of his wires. Edging it into tiny gaps and corners of his cables, right under his armor. 

The feeling was horrible. It was.. somewhat.. if to be described it'd be ticklish. But it wasn't enough. It was such a soft touch he could barely even grin from it. So he was left yelping and growling to somehow vent out the ticklish stress that wasn't enough to make him actually laugh. It was fragging piss. "Agh, Ratch'-" Jazz tried to snap his upper body forward to try and bend over his sensitive wires to guard them, unfortunately the strap around his throat did what it was meant to do and kept him in place. "Please no-hngg." 

Ratchet, the slagger, remained silent. He just cocked an optic and then halted his movement, at least from Jazz's angle it looked like it. But he knew better. Ratchet's servo was moving slightly as if he was doing something with his fingers. He was. Ratchet was currently aiming the brush. Not that Jazz could forsee that. From his angle it didn't look like much, maybe he was thinking that the medic was going to give him a break. 

He wasn't. Ratchet was aiming the brush at a very certain spot he knew was going to get a very nice reaction out of Jazz. He had scars in his protoform that were very sensitive. Usually, Ratchet didn't pay attention to them since Jazz was quite sensitive there to the point of insanity. Today though, today he planned on driving his mate insane. He had all the time in the world too, Jazz was exscused from shift for the next three days and so was Ratchet. With decepticon activity at an all time low, they could afford it. 

Ratchet was right too. As soon as he pressed the thin brush directly on one of those tiny scars and started to rub it left and right all over it, Jazz went savage with sensation. His mouth dropped open and out broke shrill and hysterical laughter. He obviously was struggling to speak, unfortunately for the saboteur, Ratchet didn't plan on listening to anything unless it was a confession. 

"Noho! Ngheheaha- Off! Ohohohoff~" Jazz's visor sparked as his laughter picked up even more when Ratchet decided to add a little more pressure and follow the line of the scar directly. One would think that Ratchet was playing too rough. Little would they know that Jazz responded to this kind of thing. Interrogation. At first Ratchet would never had considered it, stumbling upon it had been an accident but once he found out what the saboteur got out of it, it became an endearing past time whenever someone did something. 

Because Jazz knew everything. Even if he said he didn't. Ratchet knew from experience. Things no one else would even dream about Jazz. But that was his. Only his. The medic couldn't stop himself from smiling fondly at his mate, who was currently starting to lose control his his hip, slowly starting to tremble and buck it. The only reason Jazz was holding back was because he knew what would happen if he didn't. His whole experience was going to go from bad to worse.

"Now, Jazz, remember to keep still. You wouldn't want for me to get the gel out.." He whistled, practically cooed at the desperate expression the saboteur gave him, the despaired head shake. The wide, shakey smile on his face was making the whole picture even more attractive. Well.. Ratchet squinted a little, realizing once again that this relationship had made him into a sadist. Seeing his mate so strung up was absolutely.. delightful.

"No! Dun' Gehehet the gel ouhhuhuhut! A'm tryin'! A ahaham-" But then Ratchet dug the brush into a scar almost roughly on purpose and Jazz's entire hip went upwads, a strained noise coming from him as he couldn't use his legs well as leverge but the hysteria was clearly visible. "ARgH! That's cheatihin!" Which it was. Ratchet was as guilty as charged but it didn't matter. Because as he was charged guilty, he also was in charge of the situation. 

"Enough." Ratchet grinned almost devilish as he made quick work of this. He rammed his servo onto Jazz's stomach and pushed his hip down, strapping it in place. He would never be able to look at this chair the same way after this but then again, that wasn't something new. 

"No! Ratch', ya fraggin' cheated- Ya can't do this-" Jazz was babbling hectically as he had to watch the medic walk to the tray and pick several objects off it before coming back. Smiling like an angel. An angel who was a fragging devil. A cruel fragging piece of garbage. He'd never call him that out loud but he was being a bastard right now. "Ratch', no, nooonono- Dun't fraggin touch-" Jazz snarled almost in an aggressive manner but as strapped down as he was, he couldn't get out. Not without breaking this chair and they couldn't afford another. 

"You brought this upon yourself. Now, let's make this easy. Do you really not wish to talk to me about what I want to know?" Ratchet mumbled in a growling undertone, making Jazz whimper and shake his head. "..Alright. Then I will ask again later, after the treatment." Before Jazz could ask what that meant his mate moved and pried his mouth gently open, pressing a ring gag between his lips, making Jazz give a noise of distress as he tried to spit it out. Unfortunately for Jazz, Ratchet was quick to strap it into place. "And since you do not need to see for this, how about we just don't have you see anything at all." 

Hell. He was in hell. Jazz decided so as his lover shut his visual feedback off, leaving him in darkness. "Jazz, remember, you have my comms if you need them." Ratchet stated dryly before sitting back down in front of the saboteurs vulnerable valve. He grinned almost giddily as he oppened a bottle of a very certain kind of gel. "Putting the gel on now. I know you'll love this part. Since it's your favorite." The gutteral groan made him snicker. He knew Jazz hated this. 

He looked at the bottle with an evilish expression. Itching gel. It was also dosed with a heavy aphrodisiac to make him lubricate plenty enough so the itching could get really into the little nooks and crannies of the others protomesh. It was easy to wash off and out but still, only with water. The soft, incoherent begging of his mate went on deaf audios when Ratchet poured some of the gel into a bowl. Grabbing a brush and dipping it in. "Here we go, love. Remember, you had your chance to avoid this." 

With that, he dragged the brush firmly over the sensitive folds of his lover, making Jazz moan out and sob with arousal, hiccuping incoherent warbles. He knew that it felt good now, but within the next ten minutes, it wouldn't be so blissful anymore. This would be sure to itch and drive his mate up the ceiling. So he made sure to coat every single spot, spreading the folds gently and dipping the brush right in the between of them. Jazz was a fan. Or not. Hard to tell. 

He was clearly trying to distract Ratchet with the pathetic noises he was making but Ratchet wasn't falling for it. Instead, after he made sure to coat the outsides of the valve at least three times, he grabbed a syringe and pulled some of the gel inside. Jazz knew what the last step to this was and he was clearly already feeling some kind itch. The way he was rolling his hips suggested so. "I feel like we're missing something." Ratchet cooed gently, petting the insides of the saboteurs thighs. 

"Do you know what it is..?" The saboteur gave a hysteric noise, drooling onto his chassis as he tried to squirm away. But there was no escape. Ratchet waited a little to let the terror sink in before he pushed the syringe into his mates valve, as deep as possible and practically jamming it against Jazz's ceiling node. 

The reaction was absolutely delicious. Jazz howled in bliss and froze up, aside from his hips. They were bucking gently into the syringe as if that could give him the overload he wanted. He wouldn't achieve it. Not without Ratchet allowing it to him. "Hold onto it. If you drop it, I'm rubbing the gel onto your glossa next. No, I'll coat your entire mouth.." He purred and let go of the syringe, to which Jazz clung to with his valve as if his life depended on him. 

The medic walked behind the smaller and opened medical port with practiced ease. Jazz cramped up and gave a somewhat nervous noise, to which Ratchet softened and gently petted the others helm. "Shh.. I won't let anything happen to you. Remember what awaits you as a reward for being so good." A soft whine of acceptance had Ratchet smile before he plugged in and put an overload inhibitor in. Perfect. The program would work just fine.

The unhappy noise of Jazz told him that the saboteur caught on. Which didn't matter. Ratchet had all the time in the world. He walked back to the others valve and sat down, smiling as he saw the syringe was still as deep as he had pushed it. Gently tapping the bottom of it, sending gentle vibrations into his mates valve, was enough to make Jazz buck his hips helplessly. "Being so good. A shame you couldn't be perfect today but I'm feeling kind today." 

He said that but he was lying. He didn't feel kind today. He grabbed the syringe and pressed. Pushing the gel into his mates valve, deep, right where it would be the worst. Even as he pulled the syringe out, there was still gel coming out, coating the insides of his lover completely. But he was far from done. Ratchet hummed and put the gel and syringe away to grab two clamps with a humm. This was new. But he knew Jazz would be appreciative.. someday. 

He spreads the folds as much as he can without hurting Jazz and connects the clamps with the soft mesh, making the saboteur yelp and whimper in arousal, The clamps were wide but didn't cover too much of the folds, merely were they were touching it. They needed to be vulnerable for the next step. "You'll love this." He whispered gently and turned around to grab a small heater that he could fasten right in front of Jazz's valve with an cruel glimmer in his optics.

Already a few seconds after turning it on the heat was already unbearable on Jazz's sensitive valve apparently, because he was back to begging incoherently as he tried to get away from the gentle roasting of his folds. Since they were spread, the inside of his valve got a nice pack of heat too. Of course, Ratchet had done his homework, so there was no fear of actually burning or harming Jazz. He was at the very limit but he wouldn't step over it. Well, good job done. 

Ratchet gets up and stretches with a soft grunt. Right before he had a nice idea. Swiftly he picked up a small vibrator and plugged his lovers valve up with it and setting it on low, magnetizing it in place. Not only would the gel no longer leak, but it would drive Jazz even further to insanity. Jazz was already looking ridiculously delusional. Whimpering and hiccuping as he attempted to buck away from the torture his valve was subjected to. 

"Alright, I'll go and grab myself a drink. Want anything?" Ratchet smiled as Jazz was starting to fidged more, trying desperately to form a coherent sentence but aside from the gag he couldn't bring anything out without a strangled moan or grunt or sob. "No? Not even an overload?" Jazz gave a shrill noise and nodded hectically to show that he indeed wanted one. Ratchet got it. But as he said, he wasn't feeling kind today. "Yes? Not even an overload? Alright then. I'll see you in around thirty minutes." Ratchet turned around and walked to the door, ignoring the helpless and hysteric noises from behind him. He had a read on Jazz's vitals just in case. 

He makes a quick exit and re-locks the door. Standing in front of it for a while to listen to any noise that may come from the medbay. Nothing. Not even a peep. Just perfect. With a satisfied humm he turned around and made his way to the rec room. 

* * *

 When he got back, around twentyfive minutes later, he was greeted with the best sight in the universe. Ratchet quickly locked the door again before hurrying over, silently, as to not startle his lover out of the haze he was in. 

Jazz was hanging limply on the chair, sobbing softly in utter bliss as his hips twitched and bucked as much as they could while strapped down. His pedes were cramping and his legs straining to close. But oh Primus, his valve.. His valve had swolen even further, the folds looking ready to burst, flushed and irritated. He knew the saboteur hadn't had an overload. Jazz's expression was very telling. His glossa was hanging out of his mouth, drooling but apparently not caring. 

What a good boy. The medic doesn't announce himself, he just takes the heater away and unplugs his lovers valve, the gel squirting out and against Ratchet's armor. Whoops.. Well, it didn't matter. Jazz seemed to think so though, because suddenly he got very active. Very, very active. Sounding shrill and hysteric. Alright. Fine. He reached over and turned his lovers visual feed back on. Grinning at the desperate expression. "Hello there, handsome. Can I help you with anything?" 

Jazz nodded so violently that Ratchet feared that his mate would accidently harm himself, so he removed the gag for the saboteur to talk to him. "Say it." Ratchet snapped, authority melting into his voice. "You know what I want, if you refuse it, I'll leave you for an hour next." They both knew that Ratchet could do that. He did it before. Jazz went insane, breaking into a delusional and crazy minded babble. "Fine- Fine fine- Anything, it wasn't the twins!" 

Finally. "Who then? Because I'd like to know who painted all my tools in red and yellow." He questioned, pressing his knee onto Jazz's sensitive valve, making the other gasp and shudder violently. Whimpering and looking with nothing but adoration up at Ratchet. "B-Bluestreak, Tracks an' Cliff- They jus'- Oh Primus, they wanted ta get back on tha' twins for tha' szene that happened last week!" Ratchet beamed at Jazz and let his spike pop out. Pressing against Jazz's entrance. Already removing the overload inhibitor, making the saboteur sob happily. 

"Such a good boy.. do you know what good boys get?" He mumbled and stroked over the others face gently. Jazz looked absolutely enraptured as he started to nod violently again, starting to babble hectically. 

"Y-Yeah! Overloads- A want- Please, A told ya anythin' an everythin' A know-" Really. His lover was too adorable. Ratchet thinks on this as he rams his spike right into Jazz, making him overload almost instantly with a loud yell. But he doesn't stop. He picks up a rough and violent pace, hammering his spike over and over into Jazz's most sensitive spots, scratching the itch the other had juuuust right. Given, the folds were still spread but he'd rather keep them that way. It made Jazz more sensitive. 

"There we go." He laughed softly as every ounce of self control that Jazz had remaining went out the window, any kind of sentence he tried to formulate crashed, turning into useless warble, his visor shining brightly with arousal. It made Ratchet feel accomplished. Most people would think Jazz was insane for being like this. He already got tortured everytime he got caught, he went through sick shit in his past but this, this got him going. 

Helplessness, humiliation, torture. Ratchet was the only one willing to give this to Jazz. Without any judgement. Ratchet grinned a little as he plowed even harder into the smaller, making him shriek with bliss. A delusional, absolutely blissfull expression on the saboteurs face. 

This was good. He enjoyed this. But the coming aftercare full ot nice showers and oil baths was going to be just as good. He had a few days to pamper his lover throughouly. Also enough time to tear Tracks, Cliff and Blue a new one. Stupid kids. Another overload from Jazz makes Ratchet groan in arousal, clinging to the saboteur almost possessively and kissing him deeply. It was sloppy and violent but that's how they liked it. 

Worth it. The effort was worth it everytime. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be appreciated.


End file.
